


who brings moonshine to a frat party?

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drunkenness, Dubious Kidnapping, Gen, M/M, an author who knows nothing about call of duty except its name, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 07:59:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8320108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: in which a drunken iwaizumi causes oikawa a lot more trouble than he'd felt like getting into on a saturday night.





	

“I can’t find Iwa-chan,” was the first thing Oikawa said when Hanamaki answered the phone.

He was able to pull his lips away from Matsukawa’s neck – a fact which caused his boyfriend to let out an exaggerated whine which did things to him – just long enough to say, “That’s quite a problem. You better get on that.”

“I know! I know, and I’ve been looking, but he isn’t where I left him!”

Hanamaki hummed in disinterest, running his fingers through Matsukawa’s thick curls. “Which was?”

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been expecting something like this to happen. Their party nights had a habit of ending badly, specifically with someone getting either wasted, missing, or both. Admittedly, Hanamaki had thought it would be Oikawa (since it usually was); he also hadn’t expected getting this unpleasant phone call so close to midnight, and so close to _Hanamaki’s_ good time (usually, Iwaizumi was able to find Oikawa without any help – either he had some sort of sixth sense in regards to drunken Oikawas or he'd just given up by now and put a tracking device in his clothes before every party).

If Oikawa had managed to lose a drunken Iwaizumi in the middle of a college party, it was a good idea to find him… and fast.

“Umm... by the snack bar? I thought he would be fine, because he had this nice tequila mix and looked sleepy, but when I got back he was gone –”

Matsukawa, apparently displeased with being ignored, began to suck determinedly at Hanamaki’s neck. A loan moan escaped his throat, one he could not stifle over the phone line.

Oikawa was quiet for a long moment. Then, in a voice of a man acknowledging his own defeat, he said, “So, you’re not going to help me.”

Normally, Hanamaki would be more charitable. Normally being when he was not three vodka shots in, with a vixen of a boyfriend nibbling at him.

“Yeah, no. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Oikawa replied. If Hanamaki tried hard enough, he could pretend he didn’t hear the threat of imminent payback in his friend’s exasperated tone. As the phone call ended with a beep, Matsukawa began to urge at Hanamaki’s lips, and his mouth parted to allow his boyfriend entry.

Matsukawa needed his attention right now, and Hanamaki had no trouble giving it to him. Problems such as a runaway Iwaizumi could wait until  _much_ later.

* * *

 

Sitting contently in the middle of what could only be called a game room, with a console clutched in his hands and his eyes narrowed at the screen, Iwaizumi was having a fun time of his own.

“You have such nice hair,” cooed one of the intoxicated girls who had all but abducted him from the snack bar minutes ago. Her hair was a pleasant shade of auburn; multiple bracelets jingled when she moved, and her breath carried the sharp smell of vodka. “It’s so… spiky. But not loud. _Nice_ , ya know?”

“It grows like that,” Iwaizumi helpfully added, trying to focus on the game. “Naturally.”

“So niiice…” The girl overbalanced, nearly ending up falling into his lap. Thankfully for both of them, his reflexes weren’t so far gone that he couldn’t move his body in time to catch her. She wound up slumped against him, chin hooked over his shoulder as she pouted at the video game taking up his attention.

The girl on Iwaizumi’s left – the one with freckles and a tight-looking ponytail – grunted. Iwaizumi didn’t see why she sounded so annoyed, seeing as she was currently kicking his ass at Call of Duty. “Yukie, quit distracting him. A win by default isn’t a win.”

“But you don’t _lose_ …” Yukie dragged out the ‘o’ sound in the last word for so long that Iwaizumi could feel her chin vibrating. He huffed in amusement; the second girl, without even glancing at him, passed him a water bottle of something he was certain was not water.

“Better drink up,” she ordered. Uncapping the bottle unmasked a sharp smell of alcohol, and he winced. Whatever was in there was enough to make someone as lightweight as Oikawa go blind. “Because I just shot you.”

His attention snapped back to the screen, and he let out a yell of indignation as he saw his character drop dead.

“Niiiiice, Kaori,” Yukie crowed in a sleepy voice, dragging out the 'i’ sound for even longer. Iwaizumi was starting to see why Yukie and Kaori had needed to abduct him in the first place; while Yukie was definitely a friendly drunk, she was twice as clingy as Oikawa (which was saying something) and even less awake.

Kaori tossed her controller aside for a short break, leaning back against the cushions of the very comfortable couch. Her face was twisted in disdain as she plucked the bottle from Iwaizumi’s hands, took a swig from it, and passed it back to him before he could even blink. Iwaizumi felt one of Yukie’s arms snaking behind his shoulders, only to seize hold of Kaori’s ponytail and begin running her fingers through it.

“I can’t believe Bokuto-san was hiding a game room back here the entire time. From us! He thinks he can hide things at his own damn party –”

“It’s disconsoderate,” Yukie agreed solemnly.

“Inconsiderate, exactly! Right! We've done enough for him that he could at least throw us a bone!”

“The dumb owl.”

“Dumb owl, yeah! With his _dumb_ hair, and his _dumb_ muscles, and his _dumb_ –”

Kaori, Iwaizumi was observing, was a bitter drunk. She was also wildly competitive, and better than him at Call of Duty, which annoyed him a bit. He wasn’t going anywhere tonight until he managed to beat her at least once; his pride was on the line.

“I bet Akaashi knows about the game room,” Yukie sang out. The way she pronounced this person’s name somehow became garbled in her drunken slur; _“Agaashee,”_ became the stranger’s new moniker, and Kaori’s head shot up as if she were having a flashback.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. “Don’t do that. I thought he was _here_.”

Whoever these girls were and whatever relation they had to Bokuto-san (the name sounded familiar – possibly one of Oikawa’s volleyball teammates? Was he hosting the party tonight?), thy obviously had a bone to pick with him. Iwaizumi hadn’t known what to make of it when he’d been accosted by two drunk but very determined girls as he waited for Oikawa to return. All they had said was, “You look like you’re good at video games,” before ushering him off to a back room. Iwaizumi hadn’t had cause to resist, especially when he saw the assortment of video games Kaori and Yukie had stumbled upon.

Kaori nudged him, tapping the bottom of the bottle. “Drink some more,” she urged, grinning. “You’re gonna need to be a lot more drunk if you want to beat me.”

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes, recognizing a challenge when he saw one. Without a second of hesitation, he tipped the bottle to his lips and took a long sip.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Oikawa was frantic.

“Have you seen a guy – about this tall, spiky hair, looks really constipated all the time? Have you – hey, did you see my boyfriend? I lost him, I have no clue where he went, I – excuse me, have you seen a guy —”

He was having no luck, despite having interrogated the majority of the partygoers by this point. Was this what Iwaizumi had to put up with any time he went on one of his drunken adventures?

Oikawa had never felt so much sympathy for his boyfriend. He also wasn’t sure if he’d ever wanted to murder him more.

“No texts,” he hissed, gripping his phone in one hand and sending it a spiteful glare. “No calls. Nothing.”

He needed another drink to deal with this; but with Iwaizumi missing, he didn’t dare surrender his questionable sobriety.

He and his boyfriend were going to have a _long_ talk once this party was over.

* * *

 

“Die, die, die, die!”

Hajime threw himself forward, yelling incoherently at the characters on the screen. His avatar was firing his gun as fast as he could, shooting off round after round; but it seemed Kaori kept landing hits on him anyway, while nimbly avoiding all of his attacks.

“Hah hah hah, I’m kicking your ass!”

“In your dreams,” Hajime ground out, his entire body moving with the controller as he spun left. He wound up nearly falling over on the couch. Yukie, who had been splayed out in his lap up until that point, grunted and whacked his chest with the back of her hand.

“Don’ -- don’ do that. Try’na sleep.”

Iwaizumi let out a groan as his character was shot down once again. Kaori let out a victorious holler; Iwaizumi, knowing the drill by now, tipped his head back and took a long swig of the fire-mixture in the water bottle.

He muttered a curse, wincing as the alcohol left his throat burning. A burp bubbled past his lips; sighing, he tipped his head back to rest against the couch.

It was a few moments before Kaori’s grinning, freckled face appeared above him. “Giving up?”

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes, steeling himself. Very slowly, he forced himself to straighten and pick up the controller once more. Wasted or not, he wasn't a quitter, and he _didn't_ lose at video games. Kaori might be able to beat him a few times, but like hell was he giving up without a damn good fight.

* * *

 

“Oho,” Kuroo droned, lips curling up in a sneer. “You are the world's  _worst_ babysitter.”

Oikawa could feel his blood boiling; but he wasn’t about to lash out at the only other reasonably sober person in the room. Especially since it was Kuroo, who saw everything all the time. If anyone had seen Iwaizumi tonight and knew where he could have gone, it was him. it also helped that Kuroo was roommates with Bokuto, actually lived here, and knew who Iwaizumi was.

That didn't make him any less infuriating to deal with. Oikawa could handle Kuroo on the court, but off of it the man had a way of getting under his skin. (He respected his talent, in a way.)

“Iwa-chan isn’t a _baby_ , and he could be kidnapped! He could be on his way to the Yakuza headquarters right now, with absolutely no idea what’s going on, all innocent and scared...” Oikawa bit down on his lip, hoping he looked more concerned and less annoyed than he actually felt. If Kuroo had any sense of human empathy, he wanted to appeal to it.

The other boy stared at him, unimpressed. Oikawa felt himself deflate, dramatics sliding off his face like water.

“It’s late and I want to go home. He has our house keys!”

“Maybe he went home without you,” Kuroo replied, sounding bored. He was focused on mixing a multicolored beverage for a very intoxicated Nishinoya Yuu, currently slumped bonelessly over the kitchen counter. Oikawa watched, mild interest catching his eye. The drink included at least two types of vodka and four different colored syrups; it looked vaguely radioactive.

Iwaizumi wouldn’t have gone home without him. There was no question of that in Oikawa’s mind.

Huffing, he muttered an insincere “thanks” to Kuroo before setting off for the next room. If he had to turn this entire house upside down to find his boyfriend, he was going to do it.

* * *

 

By the time the bottle had been entirely emptied, Iwaizumi was feeling lightheaded and weighed down at once. While his body seemed to be fusing with the pillows beneath him, his mind was spinning; the goal of beating Kaori became a singleminded pursuit, until he finally managed to shoot her character down.

As the end of the game flashed on the screen, he tipped his head back with a whoop. Next to him, Kaori flopped back with a groan, tossing the controller aside.

“Fine, you win – you win, you win, I geddit.” She waved her hand, brushing an unconscious Yukie’s arm off from her lap. It promptly flopped right back into place, and she let out a huff of annoyance. For Iwaizumi – who’d had a lap full of sleeping girl for the past fifteen minutes – Yukie’s body had cut off circulation to his legs enough that he didn’t even mind at this point. (He also wasn’t sure he could move if he tried. Whatever was in that bottle, it had been strong as hell.)

“Moonshine,” Kaori had explained with no small degree of pride. “Or something like it. Yukie’s uncle gave her a whole bottle before she left for college, and she’s been saving it ever since. Pretty strong, huh?”

“Pretty strong” was right. Iwaizumi couldn’t remember the last time he felt this drunk, possibly because he didn’t get drunk often. A medical degree and irresponsible friends kept him busy enough that he was usually the sober one. He felt a brief flash of worry for Oikawa, back at the party; hadn’t he sort of abandoned him?

He shook it off. Oikawa would be fine; he thrived in social settings like this, the thrum of energy lifeblood to his veins. He probably wasn’t even worried.

“Mmm…” He tried to speak, but his tongue felt heavy, and he could only jolt with a sharp hiccup. Kaori, for having drank even more than he had, seemed surprisingly coherent. “How much d'you drink?”

She raised her eyebrows in an exaggerated manner. “Not much. Just got nerves of steel, I guess!”

“Nerves got… nothin’ to do with it,” he muttered, but Kaori was flexing anyway, showing off little-to-no muscle. He wasn’t sure what she thought nerves were, but she definitely wasn’t using the word right.

“Yeah,” he nodded anyway, figuring he might as well let her feel good about herself. “You got it.”

Iwaizumi bit down on his lip, unable to stifle another hiccup. Yukie jolted in his lap, and then rolled over with an incoherent moan. Her hand his his chest, bouncing off to little effect.

He was starting to understand just how sleepy Yukie had been earlier – though it didn’t help that alcohol made him tired to begin with. It was just starting to occur to him that he should probably head home when he realized he hadn’t checked his phone the entire time since he’d left with Yukie and Kaori. He didn’t even know what time it was; maybe Oikawa had been calling him, and he’d just been too drunk-off-his-ass to realize it.

“Hey, where’s – shit, where, where the hell’s my phone…”

“Pocket,” Kaori provided, and Iwaizumi suddenly felt very stupid (or very drunk – he supposed they were the same things).

“Thanks.”

Kaori wasn’t timid about peering over his shoulder, checking Hajime’s phone screen at the same time Hajime himself did. The time – just past midnight – blazed in fluorescent lettering, along with numerous texts from the same person and a bubble telling him he had nine missed calls.

Kaori whistled. “ _Someone’s_ looking for you.”

Iwaizumi closed his eyes, guilt hitting him like an unpleasant, Oikawa-shaped car. “My boyfriend. I didn’t tell him where I was goin’…”

Already his hands were moving to dial Oikawa’s number. Realizing that Kaori was only going to lean closer to listen, he grudgingly put it in speakerphone. Oikawa picked up on the second ring.

“Where the _hell_ are you?”

“Hey, Tooru.”

“Heyyyy,” Kaori added, throwing up a piece sign for no ones benefit but her own.

“Who is that? Are you with someone?”

“Two someones,” Iwaizumi corrected, glancing down at the dozing Yukie in his lap. “Yeah.”

“I reiterate –” Iwaizumi was glad to know that at least Oikawa was sober enough to use big words. “ _Where_ the _hell_ _are_ you?”

Seeing her opportunity to jump in, Kaori seized it eagerly. “There’s a game room down the hallway, like three doors back! It looks like a closet, but it’s – ’s not a closet. Fuckin’ Bokuto.” She seemed to lose her train of thought for a moment before snapping back to reality. “Can you play CoD?”

“No, he sucks,” Iwaizumi answered for him, ignoring Oikawa’s squawk – of disbelief or offense, it was hard to tell – from the other line.

“That’s it,” Oikawa hissed. Iwaizumi could tell the walk home – if he could even walk in this state – was going to be the opposite of fun. An angry Oikawa was as dangerous as a pissed off hornet. “Stay where you are, Iwa-chan. I’m coming to get you!”

“He’s coming to get you,” echoed Kaori, blinking at him.

“Who _are_ you?” was the last thing they heard Oikawa screech over the other line before Iwaizumi did them all the mercy of hanging up.

Kaori blinked down at the phone for a moment before offering Iwaizumi an unimpressed smile. “He seems nice.”

“He isn’t,” Iwaizumi replied, without a second of hesitation.

* * *

 

“Tooru... ‘M sorry?”

“Save it,” Oikawa hissed, leading a stumbling Iwaizumi down an empty sidewalk. “We are never going to a party again. Ever.”

Iwaizumi knew that resolution would last for all of half a week; but for now, at least, he let Oikawa bask in his justifiable anger. He deserved that much, after the night he’d been through.

“I can’t believe I had to pull you out from under an unconscious girl!”

After Kaori and Yukie’s third roommate -- a harried looking girl who introduced herself as Runa -- came to collect them (arriving at the same time as Oikawa), Hajime had bid his new friends goodbye. OiKawa had gaped at his boyfriend for all of four seconds before his face had darkened to a very frightening degree, and he’d half-dragged Iwaizumi from the room.

Now, making their way down the sidewalk towards their apartment complex, Iwaizumi felt no regret over leaving the party behind. Raving and getting drunk wasn’t really his thing, anyway; there was a reason he was usually the one chasing after Oikawa.

At least there was no danger of him not knowing what he’d done tomorrow morning. He got the sense that Oikawa wasn’t going to let him forget this night for a long time.


End file.
